Orange Slices
by 20 minutes
Summary: After her parents' deaths, eighteen year-old Kay Antoinette of District 11 is the only one able to protect her family. But when she's forced to participate in the Sixty-sixth annual Hunger Games, her four siblings are left alone, and the only way to get back to them is to win. Even if it means changing everything about herself.


**So, as most people probably guessed, I do not own the Hunger Games, books or movie. You know, considering this is a fanfiction, emphasis on _fan_, most stories on here aren't made by the owner…**

**~LJ**

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I wake in cold sweat, panting heavily and sitting straight up. I rest my head on my knees, trying to slow down my heartbeat and breathing. It doesn't work for a good three minutes, and by then I'm ready to pass out.

It's that damn dream again, the one that I've been having for at least four weeks straight. The peacekeeper beating my father and my mother's screams as I walk up to the stage. My siblings' wails as they try to hang onto my dress, but they're all pulled away by another white-clad peacekeeper and slapped across the face several times.

And right when my District's escort is about to read the name of my fellow competitor, I wake up.

At the moment, one of my younger brothers is staring at me earnestly, without a shirt on (he rarely wears one). He and his brothers and sister are my life. They are the reason why I crawl to work everyday, why I even bother taking the peacekeepers' crap that they throw at me every morning, afternoon, and evening. They are why I dropped out of school to get a job as a laborer in the fruit trees after Mom and Dad died.

"Go get some breakfast, Bane," I order, only to be told that he already had his couple slices of apple. Yet again, while I see him, it's like I'm slapped in the face when I see how skinny he really is. Then I remember that a few slices of apples aren't enough for a human being to live off of, but it is all that I can give them.

"Just get ready for school, then. I have to go soon – you know that."

On that note, he glances at me like I turned into a cantaloupe, but all the same runs into the "kitchen," which is really just a big room that has a torn-up couch, a broken cupboard, what my mother called a "coffee table," a stove that is usually untouched, a sink, and a fireplace that hasn't been lit in years. Our dishes and silverware are usually piled somewhere near the sink or in the cupboard.

I'm surprised to find all four of my siblings sitting on the ground around the tiny table; with a clean little plate of six orange slices on the center. Each of them gazes at me with happy, excited eyes as I enter the room, and I soon realize that I must have the same expression on my face. Oranges that we are allowed to eat are a delicacy here in District 11, and are to be treated as such. Venders in the Square sell them for extremely high prices, along with most of the produce we pick, so usually only the few Victors we have buy them.

I gather my siblings up in a big hug and squeeze. When I release them, I look deeply into their joyous faces and clasp my hands together. The whole bunch of them are darlings, only pleased when I am.

Cane is officially the youngest, and also the twin of Bane. He's the quietest of all of us, usually found reading on his bed. With his dark hair and skin, he's a perfect look-alike of Dad, only with Mom's green eyes.

Bane is probably the sweetest, often giving me bouquets of wild flowers that grow behind our house. He gets his appearance mostly from Mom, such as his blond hair and fair skin, only with Dad's chocolate-like eyes.

Then comes Holly. She's loud, rambunctious, smart, and out-going. She's mostly popular at school, with few that dislike her, and many that admire her. With her naturally tan tone, chestnut-colored hair, and clear green eyes, my only sister is basically a knockout.

My oldest brother, Scott, is nice, but lame. His foot is twisted in an odd angle, so he'll never run or work in the fields. He pretty much is the male version of Holly, only without as many friends. He gets frustrated easily and is depressed most of the time, and on top of that he can't see very well. Dad gave him his old glasses, but some kids at school smashed them.

Scott, Holly, and I are the only ones old enough to be entered into the Hunger Games. This is Holly's first time, and as of today, this is officially my last.

Oh, man.

Today's the Reaping.

It's also my eighteenth birthday.

That would be why Bane had looked at me strangely when I told him to get ready for school and that I had to go to work – school's out on the Reaping Day and laborers have the day off to "celebrate" the sixty-sixth annual Hunger Games.

I've never been good at remembering important stuff in the morning.

"Oh," I say, bringing them close again, "Come here, you guys!" They laugh and giggle as we snuggle, and I don't let them see the turmoil that I feel in my gut. They all deserve to try to be happy today. They all hope that it won't be one of us – who would?

So we all sit down around the table once more and share the juicy fruit before I have to force Bane and Cane into their nice shirts. Holly, ever the fashion expert of the family, chooses both of our outfits. While her attire is made up of the same Reaping clothes from last year and my previous Reaping Days, she makes the worn cloth seem newer, fancier even, with the elaborate hairdo that frames her shockingly beautiful face.

For me, she has laid out our late aunt's wedding dress. My mother's sister never even got to wear it, as she had perished in the field fire. Really, the dress wasn't much when compared to the styles in the Capital, but here it could cost a whole year's worth of payments.

I hesitate when she carefully pulls it out of the box, but she smiles at me comfortingly. "Try it on," she insists, and I know that I have no choice. "It'll look great."

And it turns out that she's right. When I look in our only mirror, the cracked glass shows a blond girl with a plain blue dress that fits her perfectly. The material hugs each of her curves correctly and flares out at the waist, ending at her knees. My sister sneaks up behind my reflection and pulls my hair back, showing my eyes, which are usually kept hidden behind my long locks.

It isn't me, but…

I like it.

"_Good afternoon, District 11!" _our district escort, Rudden, greets loudly and obnoxiously in the microphone at precisely one. His green curls flop ungraciously in the wind, matching the ungodly tone of his lips and eye lashes.

I cringe at the sound of his ridiculous accent and pitch. He introduces the mayor, who gives the usual speech about the Rebellion and whatnot, only no one is listening. Then its time for the only part of this horrible day that anybody really cares about – the announcing of the Tributes.

"_Right! Now, on such a good note, let's move on the lucky boy and girl that will be traveling to the Capital and participating in this year's Games, shall we?" _Rudden crows, accidentally speaking too closely to the mic. at the end of his sentence and causing it to scream in protest. I sneer at him. He makes the Games sound like a trip to paradise.

I watch as his grubby little fingers play around in the bowl of male contestants. Silently, I send a quick prayer to my ancestors that it won't be Scott.

"_Jake Thornstraw, please quickly move to the center stage!"_

My breath is released in a quick huff of relief, but then I instantly feel terribly guilty. The boy, maybe a year or two younger than me, is not familiar in the least. I suppose that should be a good thing, but my social life kind of fell apart, so there's a good chance that I knew him from school and was forgotten. It seems as though that was the case for everybody around me, because no one makes a sound – no crying or shrieks for mercy.

"_Onto the girls!"_ Rudden chirps once Jake has made his way onto the stage next to him. He thrusts his hand into the bowl and fishing around for the best one.

There's a dramatic pause as he holds up his choice.

"_Kay Antoinette!"_

I swear my heart shattered along with the air as an earsplitting screech breaks through the silence.

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**So, there ya have it. My second Hunger Games fanfic is up, though it's the only one, well, up. My last one was deleted for not following some rules *insert eyeroll here*. 'course I knew it was against the rules, but that's not the point.**

**Special thanks go out to eagleyes111, who got me back into the Hunger Games fanfic world by basically telling me to do a new one. This chapter is for him/her, for the support they gave me on both of these. :D So sorry for the wait, man, I got too lazy for my own good ^^;**

**Insincerely,**

**~Le Jokerette**


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